Gringott
by Ru
Summary: Crossover with the movie labyrinth. Jareth, 'The goblin king' gets caught up in the Dark Lords schemes, causing the goblins to finally pick a side in the coming conflict. Updated!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Gringott's goes to war!**

**Labyrinth/Harry Potter Crossover**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters.**

Thanks for the reviews everyone.

**Chapter 1**

He limped as he walked; the only thought in his mind was to reach safety. He'd never been a fan of wizarding society, but he knew they had a Gringott's branch here. So he stumbled down Diagon alley headed for the large building at the corner that could only have been goblin made. Blood was running down his face and the pain was excruciating, so much for being the all powerful goblin king!

It had been years since Jareth had last been aboveground particularly among wizards and he had never visited this particular branch of Gringott's before. Last time he had checked, the British Wizarding world had been at war. The British ministry itself had petitioned his goblins for help in the war and his people had passed the petition on to him. He had eventually denied the request, not wanting to get involved in mortal affairs to such an extent, and that had been the last he heard about it. He hadn't really cared enough to find out more either. He had his own problems after all, though he did end up granting a petition to allow the ministry to seize the assets of some "Deatheaters" after things had finally played out. Not that the ministry knew anything about him though, the goblins always kept very quiet about him to outsiders.

Eventually he made it to the doors of Gringott's; they were open for business and mortals bustled too and fro in the large open foyer. He ignored his pain for a moment to look around; it was an impressive structure and the air itself seemed to vibrate with the presence of some very strong protection spells. He was unsure if he himself could break some of the wards across the doors to the vaults and this was just the surface level protection, there was even one curse he didn't understand at all. Some of his own work was present he saw, crystals bedded into the very building itself. He could see they were unnecessary though, merely figureheads in the presence of such powerful other magic. It was very impressive work, how had such great accomplishments passed him by? Had he paid such little attention to his subjects in recent years? The crystals had been given to Gringott's over 100 years ago and even then would probably have been of little use to defend a magical bank, and yet there had been no complaints and the goblins had placed the crystals as though they were of importance. He'd been busy at the time and he was rather ashamed as he looked around, it must have been obvious to everyone at Gringott's how little time and energy he had spent on the defensive crystals.

Albus Dumbledore had finally finished his transactions and he was bid to sit and wait as the final paperwork was organised and signed, by Grumbook. As he looked around the bank in boredom he noticed a man standing alone in the doorway, his magical aura was very familiar to him somehow and yet at the same time he was sure he'd never seen anything like it before. The man also appeared to be bleeding, as evidenced by the blood flowing down his face. Dumbledore was rather surprised at the lack of reactions from the people surrounding the man. Obviously the man must be under some sort of glamour, though he wondered how he himself could see through it so clearly.

"Excuse me Grumbook, but there appears to be a man bleeding in your foyer," Dumbledore stated.

The goblin looked up from the papers annoyed, but obediently looked over to where Dumbledore pointed. The goblin looked puzzled for a moment before leaping to his feet, coincidently knocking all the papers on the floor. Unusually for a goblin he didn't immediately pick them up. In fact it looked like he had forgotten all about them as he raced across the floor towards the stranger. Dumbledore had rarely seen a goblin show more than a mild tolerance for humans, he'd certainly never seen this much concern from one for a human, how very intriguing! Even more interesting was the reaction of all the other goblins, they'd all looked up as Grumbook ran across the floor, and as soon as they themselves caught sight of the bleeding man they too abandoned their work and surged towards the stranger. All the gold in the tills and vaults, even the customers themselves were abandoned as the goblins left everything without a backward thought. The wizards all stared in amazement, including Dumbledore, a very intriguing day indeed.

The man in question didn't seem at all amazed that he had caused such a massive production, although this could be because the only thing holding Jareth up at this point was the wall. The King of the Goblins was not used to feeling weak, the curse was now draining him faster than he could keep up with and the first of the goblins only just reached him as his final reserves gave out. He started to slip to the floor, but was grabbed by one of the large goblin guards; it was the last thing he knew in quite a while. So he missed the looks of concern from the wizards watching him, he missed the total panic his final collapse caused to his Goblin subjects and unfortunately he missed the twinkle of curiosity in Dumbledore's eyes.

The injured man was carried reverently into the inner sanctum of Gringott's and goblin guards started appearing in the foyer moving the customers to the doors. Gringott's was closed. Dumbledore had to leave with the rest, for once in his life as clueless as the rest of the public as the bank moved into a full safety lock-down. Nothing would be coming in or out of the bank until the goblins determined who and what was the enemy.

**Chapter 2**

**Several days earlier **

The labyrinth had turned dark, the inhabitants were used to the kings moods, but this was something else. There'd been no sign of Jareth for days, and while this wasn't unusual in itself the behaviour of the labyrinth was. It almost seemed to be screaming. Enquiries had been made with the aboveground goblins with no success, though their concerns had been noted.

Cripfoot was concerned; the underground had contacted Gringott's head office with a discrete enquiry into the king's whereabouts, in turn all the various branch managers had been questioned. The king had never shown an interest in Gringott's or the aboveground goblins so the Underground would only be enquiring with them as a last resort. It had been many years since he himself had even seen Jareth!

The king now lay unconscious in the hospital bed; Weasley remained at the urging of Griphook, though guarded. Gringott's had shut its doors. Jareth showed all the signs of being tortured and to make matters worse there was clearly a curse upon him, draining his energies, and leaving nothing for Jareth to heal with. Goblin warriors were pouring in from all realms, answering Gringott's call. Protection of the king came first above all other priorities and they were proving this. The council was assembling at this moment; something would pay dearly for what had happened.

He'd never thought to have the king at his branch; he'd never dreamed it would be in this circumstance. Goblins were scouring the country for clues; the underground breeds were especially useful at such things. Every one of them felt the same outrage he did. The king was not to be harmed, not by anyone. Goblin security had obviously grown lapse over the years to allow such a thing to happen. The head of security was shamed. How had this been allowed to happen, even worse the goblins had not known about it. The labyrinth itself had told them what was happening had they but paid attention and still instead of rescuing Jareth, the king had been left to rescue himself. He'd obviously done so, but how poor must Goblin security have become for them not to have called the alarm days ago? The king valued his freedom and his solitude, but why had he been allowed so much isolation that his absence had not even been noticed by anyone, excepting the labyrinth itself?

The council had chastised Gingley, head of the King's guard, but ultimately they all held the blame. The king was to be obeyed in all things except his own safety and they had forgotten this. Now the king was close to death. Things would change in the future, this would not occur again.

**Gringott's Infirmary**

Jareth awoke slowly, he had a headache still, but his leg no longer hurt, in fact he couldn't even feel it. The curse was still there, however, draining him. He was in a sickbay of some sort and he tried to sit up to search for some answers. He didn't quite have the strength though and quickly fell back onto the bed with a groan. This was not how things were supposed to go; he had been far too careless, too confident in his own power and experience and now it looked like he was paying the price.

Jareth looked around the room with interest; he knew he was safe here. He just wasn't sure what to expect, he'd never been especially reliant on the goblins before now. He'd never needed to be, he'd always been the all-powerful king, the protector of his people, well when he could be bothered anyway. Still, they must realise that he would eventually get better and that would hopefully keep them in line long enough for it to be true.

"Your majesty?" Jareth turned his head and saw a goblin holding a glass with some sort of potion in it.

"Yes?" he croaked surprised at how weak and pathetic he sounded. He had to pull himself together, the curse would only get more powerful with time and he shouldn't waste what time he did have in bed.

He tried to sit up again and finally made it, the strange goblin adjusting the bed and the pillows for him. It took another minute for the accompanying pain and dizziness to subside enough for him to take note of his surroundings. Goblin guards were standing around the walls of the room looking dangerous and several were standing between him and another bed, containing what looked like a human.

"Apologies Sire," said a small goblin watching Jareth intently.

"It was deemed too dangerous to move Weasley at the moment, he's an excellent employee and thought to be of no danger to you. One of our best Curse-breakers."

Jareth blinked vaguely wondering why if the man wasn't dangerous it was thought necessary to have so many guards in the room.

"A Curse-breaker?" he said with relief. Perhaps there was room for hope after all. He coughed as he spoke which caused his stomach to roll over. The next thing he knew he was vomiting everywhere. Cool hands held him over a basin and wiped his face when he was finished. Dazed he realised that the gentle hands were now covered in blood, he felt too weak to do more than stare though. Then suddenly he was floating, everything was so peaceful and the pain was finally gone. Except someone was shouting a lot and then pain came back, lots of it, and he was forced back down to his earthly bonds and sleep.

**Chapter 3**

**Gringott's Infirmary**

It was another three days before Jareth awoke again, by which time Gringott's bank had re-opened. Remaining shut caused too much interest from outsiders and people were already spreading rumours about the strange man in the foyer, none of them correct, but the rumours were drawing interest from powerful people both light and dark. The goblins had said nothing, just tightened security.

Bill Weasley also woke up three days later, the last thing he recalled was opening the final door to the burial cave. He groaned, obviously he had missed something important and now he was in the familiar surroundings of the little talked about Gringott's medical centre. The goblins kept the inner workings of the bank secret and rarely used St Mungo's, even for the human staff. He blinked as he looked around the ward. Goblins were everywhere, all focused on a man lying in the bed across from him. He'd gotten used to working with goblins over the years, but he'd never seen anything like this before. He wondered at what caused such attention from goblins and he sat up to see better. Instantly at least half the goblins in the room were holding a weapon and pointing it right at him. Even those goblins not currently pointing a weapon at him suddenly looked very threatening.

It was the shouting that finally woke Jareth and he opened his eyes to see the goblin doctor from earlier, defending the mortal from what looked like hordes of goblins. He wasn't sure he really had the energy to deal with whatever the problem was and he would have closed his eyes to sleep once more if he hadn't been so thirsty.

"Water?" he croaked

"Doctor, he's awake," said Brotfield urgently.

Weasley was forgotten as all attention returned to the king.

"Drink this sir," the doctor tried.

It looked like the same potion from last time and Jareth blinked, uncertain. He looked around the room warily, but ultimately there was little choice. He would have to trust someone else for once.

It took three weeks in the end to finally break the curse on Jareth, during which time Bill fully recovered from his ordeal, ironically it was Bill Weasley himself who eventually came up with the solution. He still didn't know what was going on and who the strange man was, but had been unable to refuse to help when Gringott's head goblin himself pleaded with him.

Jareth was almost skeletal by this point, kept alive only because he was leeching power from his Labyrinth. He knew that if he got too weak to sever the link before he died, the Underground would die too. The labyrinth wouldn't let him do it though. The Labyrinth had grown so powerful over the years that it was now self-aware to a certain extent and Jareth found himself unable to convince it to let him die. The removal of the curse was therefore a huge relief in more ways than one.

There were, however, going to be some tricky long-term problems now though. Jareth had never really linked like this with the labyrinth before, though the ability had always been there, and now this foreign power was running through his veins sustaining his life. In fact he had previously deliberately refrained from mentally linking this deeply. Much preferring to spend his time playing with foolish mortals, both above and below, than to be tied down with responsibilities to the labyrinth or the Goblins.

**Chapter 4**

**Gringott's**

Jareth started recovering quickly once the curse was removed, physically at least. Though it would be a long time before his power returned to his normal levels. Something he managed to keep quiet even from his doctor. Goblins guards were still hovering around him too. He found it strangely comforting. He wasn't really used to the open concern they showed though, even in front of the mortal Curse-breaker. He'd had little use for bodyguards in the past and had always looked after himself just fine.

They waited a few days after the lifting of the curse, but eventually a small delegation of goblins arrived to find out who or what had attacked Jareth.

"Sire, you are safe here," said Griphook "we need to know what happened though."

He looked at the king; they had nearly lost him to the curse several times over the weeks. Jareth was still pasty white; he'd used up all of his own energy fighting the curse and had no reserves left, both physical and mental. He'd started having nightmares too, now that he was getting better, though he had tried to hide them from everyone. It was however an impossible thing to hide in front of so many attentive goblins, though they all allowed him the illusion.

Jareth bit his lip and looked at the goblins waiting patiently for his answer, he'd avoided saying much about what had happened so far, but he knew it was unfair of him to keep it from them after all they had done. He hated himself for feeling it, but Jareth was scared and worst of all, he was pretty sure they all knew it too.

"Wizards," he finally said, "there were lots of them, maybe fifteen in total," he avoided their eyes, didn't want to see pity.

"They knew who I was too, called me Jareth." He looked puzzled for a moment

"They wanted something, kept talking about someone called Dumbledore" he finally chanced a glance at Griphook and was relieved to see no sign of pity.

"The shackles, I couldn't get them off. The more I fought them the tighter they got and then…" he trailed off, still horrified at his own weakness.

"The one in charge, they called him the dark lord. He..." he ground to a halt, unable to continue, just sat there in agonising silence. They'd had him for three days; his body had managed to heal the damage inflicted before the curse but he still remembered.

**End of Section 1**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 5**

**Gringott's **

Jareth sat down for a moment after getting dressed, the effort had exhausted him, but it meant that he was finally leaving the infirmary. He'd wanted to go back to the underground days ago, but the doctor had vetoed the idea. Said they needed to be sure the curse was truly gone before he was to have contact with powerful magic. He'd thought about making his own way home, but the effort was just too much for him at the moment. The Goblin King was reduced to the magic level of a near-squib for the foreseeable future. Not that he was defenceless, he was just bone-weary tired. He'd spent much of his time asleep recently, but magically it still wasn't enough to come even close to recovery. He would have to be very careful of enemies in the near future; the Dark Lord had a lot to answer for. He also urgently needed to figure out how those wizards knew so much about him, the more he thought about it, the more he realised how very clever they had been.

Jareth was leaning heavily on his cane by the time he reached the door. He knew he should listen to the doctors and stay in bed, but he needed to test his limits. His doctor Griphook was standing on the other side, casually waiting with a wheelchair. Jareth's lip twitched and then he laughed for the first time since the incident. Apparently his limit was walking to the infirmary door. It was with relief that he sat down in the chair, he hadn't been totally certain he could get back to the bed.

He'd finally got rid of most of his bodyguards though he knew several were still guarding the outside of the infirmary. So it was interesting to be wheeled down the corridors and see some fresh faces. He still wasn't entirely back to his old self, but he would be one day, and for once he was willing to wait and accept some help in the mean time. He'd been shown some wizard newspapers while in bed, his identity was now widely known to the British wizards, and no doubt the secret had been spread with the help of the Dark Lord. He wasn't really sure what to do about that.

The Ministry was now demanding an audience, as was that Dumbledore person. He still didn't know what the dark lord had wanted and he knew he was probably still being chased. He wasn't sure he would survive them a second time. He was meant to be the king and yet he couldn't scrape enough energy together to decide what to do about any of this! Joining with the ministry would mean taking his people to war, there would be huge casualties and he himself would be worse than useless to his people. Resources would have to be spent protecting him and then there was the Labyrinth. These people were powerful, not enough to be a threat under normal circumstances, but they had bled him of his power and absorbed it. It wouldn't last forever but for a while his magic within them would make them stronger, worse it would allow them to enter the Labyrinth and they would be stronger still on his own lands. The Labyrinth would fight them, but it too was in a weakened state and if they succeeded in getting to the palace they would have access to all the Gringott's branches around the world. If he stayed away from the ministry he might stand a chance of defending his own borders from harm.

And yet, he couldn't let this go. If he let these people escape retribution others would think him weak and would no doubt attack. The goblins owned most of the world's wealth, what they didn't own they kept in their banks. If the goblins fell, so would most of the worlds economy both the muggle and magical. Jareth felt no particular responsibility towards any of the other races; well he tried not to anyway, but that didn't mean he was easy about allowing such devastation to occur.

Griphook wheeled him into what looked like a war chamber, he recognised most of the goblins within, some were well known to him in the Underground, others he knew vaguely to be from aboveground. They rose to their feet, as he got closer, and bowed deeply. He inclined his head in return.

"Sire," murmured one.

"Hello Gingley." He replied to his head of security.

"How goes the labyrinth?" Jareth asked.

In truth Jareth probably knew better than Gingley how the land was doing, he was still mentally linked very closely to it. It refused to let go, traumatised by what had happened to its master and now fiercely protective. Apparently the labyrinth had grown very sharp spikes everywhere, this was probably not a development much enjoyed by its inhabitants. The weather was no doubt following his own moods as per usual so he dreaded to think how bad things must be for the inhabitants. He queasily wondered what the three days of torture had been like weather-wise; he didn't quite like to ask though, not sure he ever wanted to know.

Griphook stood to the side and listened as the council talked. As a lowly doctor he would have no say in the councils decisions. He was here simply as Jareth's doctor, a task getting less easy each day as the king started getting more mobile and independent. He wasn't sure Jareth even understood the anger felt by the council, felt by all of them over what had happened. No one in living memory could remember Jareth being attacked to such extent, he had nearly died and though they hadn't told him yet, it was the goblins' fault for hiding Dumbledore's secret in their vaults. Jareth though acted surprised and bemused at their concern.

Goblins the world over were now waiting and preparing for war. They'd already sent notices out to customers; none who wore the dark mark would be served or allowed entrance to a Gringott's branch. Voldemort had seriously miscalculated. In truth, none of them could understand his thinking on the matter. Surely he knew that attacking Jareth was akin to a declaration of war? The goblins would rip him to pieces simply for touching the goblin king without permission, but this went way beyond that. Jareth was still refusing to tell them all of what had happened to him either.

The goblin king had been a well kept goblin secret for a very long time and now that secret was out. And yet, something didn't quite fit. Voldemort had relied strongly on the neutrality of the goblins in the last war, to throw that away was insane. He could easily have taken a lower ranking goblin, someone who might even have known what he wanted to know and though the goblins would have retaliated they might not have gone to war over it. Instead he and his men had taken Jareth himself and in turn mobilised all goblins, both above and below and why had he spread the word about Jareth's existence to the rest of the wizards?

The council argued among themselves and Jareth merely sat and watched, lacking the energy for anything more. As they talked though it became apparent to him that they didn't truly understand the consequences of what had happened.

"Voldemort will be ready for us," Jareth interrupted. The arguing stopped as they turned to him.

"I'm not sure we can win against him if we declare war." He lifted a hand to stop the shouting.

"You don't seem to understand what has happened. This Dark Lord has been very clever; he's been draining my power with his curse for over 3 weeks and I have very little left. The labyrinth in turn has been keeping me alive for most of that time. Contrary to my wishes." He sighed.

"This means in turn that Voldemort has by now absorbed all my power and part of the Labyrinths. I'm not sure the Labyrinth can fight him if he invades the underground and if he makes it to the palace its all over. Our only hope might be that Voldemort doesn't understand the power he now holds." He stopped again exhausted. "It all depends exactly on what this Dark Lord knows about goblins and what exactly he knows about me. If the curse had killed me, this could have been avoided. The power would have left him immediately and gone to my successor"

Dear god, thought Griphook. This was what he had been keeping from them, no wonder he still looked so tired and defeated. Jareth coughed but continued

" He called me by name, we need to know how and what he knows." He coughed again and was handed some water by Griphook

"If we ally with this ministry we might keep him too occupied to find the labyrinth entrance. I've instructed her, I mean it," he said quickly keeping his secrets close even now. "To close almost all the underground entrances found in this world. However if I close all the entrances I'll lose the link to the labyrinth and there will be no way to know what is happening above or below. No way to track them and I'll be almost powerless. If I die though my successor will regain all the power that was taken. It might be best to just kill me at some point."

They sat in stunned silence; Jareth believed they should let him die? He believed that they could?

"You want to die sire?" questioned Gimley, a council elder, cautiously.

"I'm tired, I think its time I went back," Jareth said, avoiding the question entirely. He was bored with feeling ill, tired of thinking about what had happened and unwilling to discuss his current mental state with the council.

**Chapter 6 **

**The next day**

Jareth had started walking with a cane now, and he was exhausted when he finally made it to the foyer. Mortals were dotted around the room and he saw several other species as well, making withdrawals or deposits as he stood there and watched. It was late afternoon now and much quieter than the last time he had been here. He'd never before realised what a huge corporation Gringott's had turned into. Jareth was spotted almost immediately he arrived. Several goblins hurried towards him and all the customers were quick to stare as he emerged from the inner corridors.

"Sire?" said Grumbook "Can I help you?"

"No, no I'm just looking around," he replied. "I thought you'd have closed by now"

Jareth sat down in the chair provided though, grateful for a break. He spent over an hour sat in the chair resting, it was rather enjoyable to watch the comings and goings of mortal wizards, he even spotted one or two non-magic users or "muggles" as they were called. Just sitting quietly without obvious guards allowed him to remain fairly inconspicuous for the moment. Goblin guards were still dotted around the place, but they were trying hard to stay unnoticed, and seemed happy to let him be for the moment. He laughed as he saw the utter disdain the goblins showed to most of the mortals, their own customers.

"Grumbook?" he asked, "How does the bank do so well with mortals? I would have thought they would move on to friendlier competitors."

Grumbook paused as he looked up from his counting "There is no other competition, we provide the only wizarding bank" he said proudly.

Jareth coughed embarrassed, he probably should have known that. Once he had started though he found it almost impossible to stop. A glass of water was immediately given to him and he blinked at the speed, he calmed down as he drank it and glared at all the concerned glances he was getting from goblins in the vicinity.

Eventually he got bored of sitting, and got to his feet heading for the main door, much to the consternation of the goblins pretending not to guard him. It was a sunny day and he'd not been outside for several weeks now. How dangerous could it be? He was tired of being scared and sick, he wanted his life back. Simply getting to the outdoor steps exhausted him however, so he simply leaned against the outside wall. He smiled as lots of goblins apparently decided they also wanted some sunshine, they surrounded him, though they still tried to pretend not to be guarding him.

Unfortunately their behaviour drew the attention of the mortal wizards in the street who got their first good look at the goblin king. He sighed; he'd much preferred it when the wizarding world hadn't known about him. He knew the knowledge of his existence was quickly spreading across the aboveground too, fuelled by all the rumours and speculation of recent events.

Jareth only stayed a few minutes before heading back inside, wanting to be away from the staring, to the obvious relief of his guards and he rolled his eyes at them in amusement. They were really enjoying being allowed to actually guard him, they'd better not get too used to it though. He had no intentions of changing his lifestyle because of what had happened; well he wouldn't change his life once he got his powers back anyway. Until then, he would enjoy the feeling of safety they gave him; he wasn't going to tell them that though. Despite what they seemed to think, he knew he was still a target, he knew how vulnerable he currently was and he remained appropriately wary.

It had been a long time since Jareth had last given the goblins so much thought, particularly those that resided Aboveground, he hadn't figured they cared much about him. He hadn't especially cared for them after all, not until he needed them anyway. In fact he had long expected they were biding their time to break away from his control entirely, he'd been happy to let them. Bored now, Jareth wandered over to the vault doors, examining the spells he'd noticed on that very first day. He was right, they were most impressive and even now he still couldn't quite figure that strange one. It looked nasty though.

Grumbook saw Jareth examining the doors and walked over, he knew a trip to the vaults would be too much for the king in his condition, though he wasn't sure he would be able to convince Jareth of that.

"Is there a problem Sire?" he asked quietly. There were few wizards left in the bank now, but it was still best not to draw too much attention.

"No" said Jareth absently "This is great work here, I just can't figure out what that one does," he said, pointing at the strange evil little spell.

Grumbook blinked as his king casually pointed at the wood, all he saw was the old solid oak doors. He noticed the manager watching them curiously as he shrugged at Jareth.

"I'm not sure what you mean Sire."

"The spell!" Jareth answered, looking surprised. "The blue-grey one, the nasty looking one there." He pointed again.

"You can see the spells?" Grumbook asked cautiously.

Jareth was bemused, he hadn't realised that actually seeing the spells was unusual in any way. If they weren't meant to be seen how did people know they were there?

"Of course I can, are they meant to be hidden?" he asked

"There are but a few beings that can see spells" Grumbook said, "Wizards and goblins are not generally among them."

"You can't see them then?" Jareth questioned, "It must be like being blind, not to see all the magic around you." He traced the spell with his finger gently causing it to vibrate angrily and he laughed at it in amusement.

"I can sense their presence, particularly the more powerful ones," said Grumbook slowly.

Jareth looked at the goblin and decided to try an experiment. He wasn't entirely sure it would work with his current level of power, but it would be fun to try.

"Come here," he said as he grabbed the goblins wrist. "Close your eyes," he ordered.

Concentrating hard Jareth mentally told the labyrinth what he wanted to do and then pushed some of the power of the labyrinth into Grumbook.

"Open your eyes," he ordered impatiently.

Grumbook opened his eyes and gasped. Magic swirled around him in hundreds of colours. Jareth was an almost blinding light and he wondered what he would see when the king was his normal self. The walls of Gringott's were covered with different spells all moving in various patterns. It was absolutely amazing.

"So how about a tour of this place?" Jareth asked pleasantly before collapsing.

**Chapter 7 **

**Dumbledores Study: Hogwarts **

Dumbledore examined the notice closely yet again; it appeared that Gringott's would take sides in the coming conflict after all. There would be ways around the Deatheater ban, but Gringott's had single-handedly almost financially crippled the enemy, with one stroke of the pen! Voldemort had somehow made a big mistake, which could possibly cost him the war, a war he had been winning.

All the Gringott's branches across the world prided themselves on their neutrality in wizarding affairs, providing their banking services to anyone with money. They weren't generally evil though and in the last war he had personally gone to them for help. He'd thought he had gotten through to them and then suddenly they had stopped all contact with him. Some of them had still helped out the order with information and many of those with medical knowledge had volunteered to St. Mungo's, but that had been it. Now it looked like things had changed and the goblins were finally preparing for war.

The newspapers were all talking about a so-called 'Goblin King' and rumours were spreading that Voldemort had captured and tortured him. No one seemed to be able to pinpoint the source of the rumours though and the goblins weren't confirming or denying anything. He'd been interested to note the sheer amount of goblin activity in recent weeks though; they'd been heading in droves to the British branch of Gringott's. He'd have to interrogate Professor Binn's or Flitwick, the only men on staff with any knowledge at all of the secretive goblins.

**End of Section 2**


	3. Chapter 3

_I've done a bit of a re-write, so have hopefully improved the flow of the story and i've added a few sections too here and there. Thanks for the reviews._

**Chapter 8**

**Gringott's **

Jareth was finally getting a tour of the vaults. The manager, a goblin called Cripfoot, seemed both thrilled by his interest and at the same time, horrified at the idea that he was out of bed at all. Jareth was surprised himself at his own interest, but put it down to the sheer boredom of being forced to stay in bed for weeks on end.

The tour ended pretty quickly following the sound of screaming; one of the customers had failed to get past their own protection charms and was vomiting on the floor. To his side was a badly burnt goblin screaming in agony. Jareth sank to the floor, this could be a very bad idea, but he couldn't leave one of his own in such pain. The problem was that even though he was only channelling the Labyrinths magic the process of doing so in turn drained even more of his own power and he had very little magic left to use. He channelled as much as he could through the link, only as much as so he could be sure the goblin would live, before he sank into inky blackness.

Unsurprisingly when Jareth awoke he was back in the Gringott's medical centre. He was met with the disapproval of Griphook who seemed to think he should have left the matter to the trained healers and not risked himself when he was already so weak. He wasn't sure he disagreed either; he wasn't sure what the hell had come over him.

Since when had he cared? He also regretted missing the rest of the tour; some of the treasure the goblins and their employees had unearthed was truly priceless. Dangerous too!

Bill Weasley meanwhile had also found life changed after Jareth's ordeal. Financially he was now secure, he was now a team leader in his department in Egypt and had his choice of assignments for the foreseeable future. He'd also made a rather good friend in a goblin called Griphook, a part-time doctor and bank teller from the London branch. They'd worked very closely together breaking the curse on Jareth, and had formed a pretty good team. They were currently sitting in a tent in Egypt drinking goblin wine and Bill, sworn to secrecy, was finally learning the truth about Jareth and the goblin nation. He wasn't stupid, he'd figured out Jareth was the goblin king pretty much on meeting him, but learning about the existence of the Underground, well it certainly explained a lot about the goblins he'd worked with over the years.

"Could I see it?" Bill questioned excitedly.

Griphook hesitated. The goblins owed Bill a large debt for what he had done while still ill himself. But, though goblins were free to come and go from the Underground at will, there were various restrictions on mortals doing so. It would be fun to show his new friend his world though; Bill would appreciate the Labyrinth with all its puzzles.

**Chapter 9**

The goblins meanwhile had finally granted a meeting with the ministry, Dumbledore had also been invited and he had brought along Filius Flitwick in the hope that the small amount of goblin ancestry would aid relations. No mention was made of the goblin king in the missive and none of the wizards knew what to expect. The head of the ministry, Cornelius Fudge, was present as was Alastor Moody and several other important looking ministry members. It was Grumbook who showed them to the war chamber, where the goblin council met them. There was no sign of the blond man Dumbledore had seen bleeding in the foyer. Dumbledore examined the goblins carefully, he knew several of them but the identity of the 'goblin king' wasn't obvious.

"The ministry offers greetings to the goblins of Gringott's," said Fudge importantly, unsure which of the goblins in front of him was the so-called king.

After the greetings, the goblins sat down ready for business. Moving straight into the business of war they wanted everything the ministry had on Voldemort.

"May we ask, before we begin, exactly what has changed to bring you into the war?" asked Dumbledore

"There was an incident involving one of our own," admitted Deltare, the head of the council. "It is not possible to ignore such an incident and we have no wish to try."

"Your King?" probed Fudge with deep interest.

The goblins seemed strained with this route of enquiry "Jareth was badly injured by the Dark Lord" finally admitted Deltare, careful not to mention Jareth's rank to outsiders even if they had guessed it successfully.

"Interesting, may I ask how this Jareth is doing?" enquired Dumbledore

The goblins looked at each other, and the wizards could see the carefully hidden worry. It was unusual to see such concern from goblins; this Jareth was clearly a very unusual man.

The meeting continued and the goblins seemed as strained with Flitwick as always. He'd never had anything to do with that side of his ancestry. So when the blond man entered the room he was actually caught off guard. Luckily the man seemed as interested in him as he was in the stranger, to the point where the man ignored the rest of the room. He was obviously very confident that everything would wait for him as he examined the short wizard and he was right, it did. Flitwick was feeling his goblin ancestry for the first time in his life, he knew this man in his very bones. He bowed to the king, to the amazement of even the great Albus Dumbledore, but to the amusement of Jareth, blood would always tell with these things. Filius grinned back; the king was taller than he would have expected and much better looking too. Jareth nodded back to the man accepting his obeisance. There were stranger things in his kingdom than crossbreeds.

The goblins had leapt to their feet at his entry and quickly provided him with a chair. They smoothly changed positions so the strongest and best fighters within the council were protecting Jareth. And introduced him simply as Jareth to the wizards

"May I introduce Minister Fudge and Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts" continued Deltare continued smoothly.

So this was the goblin king thought Dumbledore, the goblins had been very careful not to say the actual words, but it was pretty obvious to everyone in the room. He wondered how Jareth had become king, he looked nothing like a goblin and yet Filius seemed to recognise him instinctively. He wasn't unaware of the positioning of the goblins in the room either; they'd fallen into a defensive stance, ready to attack if needed or ready to defend. He wondered if it was Jareth who was in charge during the last war. The existence of a king explained rather a lot about the actions of goblins over the years, but why were they so secretive about it?

Jareth himself was uncomfortable, he was in the presence of wizards like those who had tortured him and he was still weak. If they attacked he had very little left to defend himself. The goblin council had sensed his distress and moved to defend him should it be needed. He breathed deeply, he was in a goblin stronghold, nothing was going to happen, and these were potential allies. He was shocked at his own cowardliness; he would have to face what had happened sooner or later. Even so his hands shook slightly and he allowed their protection of him to go uncommented. It felt like a long time now, since he had stood so proudly on his own, since he had felt safe.

Things rapidly deteriorated after Jareth's entrance, Fudge managed to insult and aggravate the goblins in short order. He'd immediately assumed that Jareth was a wizard like himself and lost no time in conveying the belief that the goblins had done the right thing in allowing themselves to be led by a human wizard. His contempt for the goblin people obvious to all in the room, and in his prejudice he casually assumed that Jareth had basically tamed them somehow. A belief he managed to convey rather effectively.

Dumbledore watched in fascination. Fudge had put his foot in it as usual, but it was the reaction of the goblins that held him spellbound. In all his life he'd never seen the goblins behave like this. Goblins were well known for their rebellious nature and had always held a true disdain for human wizards and their laws. Even to each other he'd never seen them behave quite like this. They clearly adored Jareth, enough that they were willing to sit still and let their entire race be insulted.

Normally, by this point, the annoying mortal would be but a scorched stain on the floor, however Jareth was still effectively powerless. Also the man was amusing. Jareth listened with morbid curiosity as the man managed to neatly offend everyone in the room. He was rather amused by it all and it wasn't until he himself somehow became a power-crazed ingenious manipulator that anybody reacted. Apparently his taming of the goblins was a masterful stroke of pure genius. It would be if true, that were for sure.

Griphook was also listening in amazement, he was well used to the bigoted opinions of ministry officials, but he'd been under the impression that they would be damn grateful for any help in the war at all and suitably mannered. Gingley, the head of security, had nearly attacked the man when Jareth was referred to as a mortal wizard and was only held in check by Jareth's amusement.

The king was uncommonly quiet during the meeting, seemingly content to let the council handle the negotiations and just to watch.

**Chapter 10 **

**One week later**

Jareth was feeling much better, it would still be a long time before he had any decent magic available to him, but physically he was well, if a little gaunt. He was going outside. To the total horror of every goblin in the vicinity, he'd borne no complaints though they managed to foist a guard on him somehow. It would be made up of a breed of goblin from the underground that could make itself invisible to humans. They weren't the greatest goblin fighters or the most intelligent goblins, but could summon help in an instant should something happen.

Jareth exited the bank with a feeling of relief, unlike most goblins Jareth preferred wide-open spaces and he'd been trapped in the building for a long time now. He turned round though pretty quick

"Cripfoot, I'm going to need some wizard money?" he questioned. In spite of the fact that his goblins ran the entire wizarding financial world he wasn't entirely sure he knew what money they even used. "How do I go about getting some?"

The branch manager simply handed a bag of gold to Jareth without comment and proceeded to explain the value of the coins within. Jareth looked at the bag,

"Whose money is this?" he enquired

"Yours Sire, Gringott's does after all belong to you," replied Cripfoot.

"Right," said Jareth bemused, but he accepted the offering.

The underground operated with more of a bartering system. Jareth as king had always got what he needed by either demanding it or then simply taking it if it wasn't immediately offered. Not that he needed much; he could pretty much provide for himself and generally did so.

Jareth wandered down Diagon alley casually. It had been many years since he had visited, the war made the goblins wary about letting him wander here alone, not that he had cared what they said. But previously he had never had much interest in coming here anyway. However, now he wanted to come see how things had changed.

Despite his best intentions though, goblins were everywhere -invisible to the mortals of course, even those with magic! The goblins were delighting in causing chaos too and he smirked at their antics. Only a specific breed of goblin had the ability to remain invisible to others and so for today all his guards were from the Underground, they were much more familiar to him than those at Gringott's. His picture had been circulated in the papers a week or so back, the supposed Goblin King! The goblins hadn't of course confirmed or denied anything and part of the ally agreement was non-disclosure about Jareth in any way from the ministry. So though he got some stares, people lives had moved on fairly quickly and now he was just another oddity walking the streets.

Things had changed a lot apparently. His doctor, Griphook, had mentioned in passing that a wand might allow him to focus what was left of his magic, allowing him access to more power while he was still recovering. He would even be able to focus the power of the Labyrinth through it, meaning that he would not need to act as the channel himself, allowing him access to a lot more power in case of emergencies, for the foreseeable future at least anyway. So when he passed a place called Ollivanders he stopped off, embarrassing though it was for the king of the goblins to need a wand. It turned out though that a young lad was running the store, with little to no idea about wands for magical beings at all, seemed to think it might even be illegal! Supposedly he was still an apprentice, though when Jareth asked about the wandmaker himself he was met with only scared silence and excuses. In all, the encounter only proved his belief in the incompetence of mortal wizards.

**Chapter 11**

The owl sat calmly in the tree thinking. He should leave. It was more than past time, he'd stayed longer than he'd intended already. He was healed now after all and with a wand and a link to the Labyrinth he was safe enough. Jareth had nothing to feel guilty about; he'd never asked them to care. What had happened had happened. Next time he would be more cautious, it was not a reason to go to war. He'd been angry at first and scared, and then things had snowballed and now the goblins were all but allied to a bigoted ministry and his Labyrinth was in more danger than ever. Even if they went to war, there was no reason he had to be involved, there were some perfectly capable goblin generals out there and Gringott's apparently had enough money to fund several wars all at once. He just didn't want to get involved that was all; it didn't make him a bad person. He'd just spent hundreds of years distancing himself from the goblins. He'd not got involved in any of the aboveground uprisings after all and they'd turned out fine, though obviously anti-human prejudice was still endemic to the population. The Goblin's were happy with the status quo though, weren't they?

So they had sheltered and healed him when he'd come crawling, it didn't mean anything other than they were scared of what he'd have done to them if they hadn't. Jareth held no illusions about himself, he wasn't a good king, he wasn't even a good person when it came down to it and he didn't want to be either. He didn't want responsibility, he never had. With no further thought he took flight back to his home, the Labyrinth welcomed him back with relief.

The rain stopped when he arrived, it had clearly been on-going for a long time now and large areas of land were clearly flooded badly. He flew over the land close to tears; the Labyrinth had grown dark and twisted with his pain and fear. Even the remaining flowers had grown spikes. There were no inhabitants to be seen in a usually thriving land. He finally realised that a quick fix might not be possible. He landed finally on a ledge, the darkness retreated and the land moved to create a safe place for its master.

Everybody always wanted something, had some sort of ulterior motive and if he could just figure out the Goblin's ulterior motive he could get back to his life. He threw a pebble in the lake forming below him. Gringott's would continue trying to pay him tributes each year, which he would refuse because they offered him nothing he found important and life would return to normal. He paused at the thought, they offered him tribute, every year without fail, all the goblin breeds did, though every year he refused such offerings. He had no need of gold or jewels. He'd always thought they were relieved and it was simply a gesture designed for show. Yet every year they offered him something different as well, a desirable book, a rare fruit or some well worked metal. Very occasionally, if the objects significantly intrigued him, he would accept the tribute, but he wondered what they did with the rejected offerings. For the first time he wondered if rejecting their offerings had been wrong. He also wondered if accepting food, safety and now gold would have repercussions. In the old days, such acceptance from the king would re-new the ancient ties between the goblins and the king, but it had been a long time and he was sure the old bonds had broken by now. He was the only one had remembered anyway.

Maybe he could have an independent life and still spare some time to be responsible. Things had used to be different after all. Hundreds of years ago he'd been a good ruler, but then he'd been betrayed, that had been the last time he'd been seriously hurt before now. Things had changed after that, the labyrinth had grown wild and dangerous and Jareth found other entertainments, bad ones.

**Chapter 12**

When the rain finally let up and the sky seemed to lighten a little, Sir Didymus and Hoggle had taken advantage and gone outside for some air. The Labyrinth had changed around them even as they walked and now though they were hopelessly lost. Not an uncommon thing, being lost, in the Underground. Especially these days, with the king still absent. Many inhabitants had left the kingdom months ago. Only the goblins and those with nowhere to go had stayed. Their home had turned dark and bleak almost overnight. Everyone knew why, they couldn't not know! Jareth's tie to the land was well known, and his moods had always affected the weather. Nowadays the Labyrinth was dark and hostile, spikes grew everywhere and poisonous plants thrived to the detriment of food crops. The rain was unrelenting too, leaving little land to actually traverse. Many homes were gone entirely, the sky remained a never ending grey, the sun unseen now for months. Worst was the nights, when the Labyrinth even now still howled its misery to all, even the nocturnal creatures refused to go outdoors at such times.

"You ever seen this place before?" asked Hoggle "Cause I've lived these parts a long time, and I ain't never seen a waterfall and lake in these parts."

Sir Didymus looked around thoughtfully at the beautiful valley they found themselves in, Hoggle was right. As natives of the Labyrinth they knew things changed almost at whim, but large bodies of water always tended to remain in the same place. A remnant of one of the few occasions that both goblins and all other inhabitants had worked together to force the king into action. Too many incidents of dehydration, even death, had occurred due to water shortages and it had been impossible for anyone to keep up with water prices in the city. So delegates had been sent to the king with a request for some stability in their very unstable world, it had taken ten years, but they had finally got their way. Jareth had eventually agreed when it was pointed out that people were forgoing bathing, when the shortages got too critical. This did not allow for a pleasant odour, particularly during high summer. Jareth had agreed to their demands with a sigh, sick entirely of the subject, and ever since then the Labyrinth's water supply had remained one of the few predictable things in the Labyrinth. It had the added bonus of allowing the citizens some landmarks from which to navigate their way round the maze. Correspondingly, all large bodies of water within the Labyrinth were well documented and known by all natives.

There were no spikes in the valley they found themselves in, a welcome relief after so long. There was someone else though. The Goblin King sat on a rock observing the falls. He turned as they entered, surprise writ all over his face. The Labyrinth had never allowed him to be disturbed when he wanted solitude before.

"You two?" Jareth said in disgust, as two of his least favourite subjects disrupted his contemplations. "What do you want?" he asked tiredly.

They eyed him cautiously.

"You're back then," said Hoggle gruffly. Jareth looked thin and tired, for once not the all-powerful king they all knew and whom Hoggle in particular greatly disliked.

"For the moment," Jareth replied returning his attention to the water. He didn't know why the Labyrinth had brought them here, but he didn't really have enough energy to care.

"Your Majesty, are you all right?" asked the knight.

"I'll be fine, " replied Jareth. "It will just take some time is all" he surprised himself by even answering the small fox, but he had been doing a lot of surprising things recently.

Jareth laughed as he saw their delight in the surroundings, a harsh unpleasant sound, "She made this for me," he said, waving expansively at the valley "Wanted to cheer me up," he sighed "Either that or she's just as sick of the rain as everyone else that's still here."

They stared at him in silence, unsure how to react to his pain.

Jareth finally decided, while sat on his rock talking to a cowardly dwarf and a brave little fox, to go back above. He remembered a time when the dwarf had been brave enough to stand against him, to face his fears and he himself could do no less. Gringott's had helped him, and asked nothing. It was Jareth who involved them in this war, not the other way round. Anyway he'd always know in his heart that he had abandoned them because he was afraid and how would he live with that?

**Chapter 13**

Jareth flew to the edge of Diagon alley before transforming to his human form, it took a lot out of him, so many transformations in one day and he had to sit on a wall for a few moments to recover. As he was sat there he noticed the man from the meeting, Dumbledore, the old powerful one was walking towards him. He also quickly spotted a small horde of goblins hovering discreetly in the distance so he remained where he was and waited.

Dumbledore had been buying some new robes when he noticed Jareth; the transformation from an owl rang a faint bell somewhere. If he could only remember what he'd read about a goblin king turning into an owl. Never mind, it would no doubt come to him sooner or later. He quickly strolled over when he noticed Jareth turn particularly white after the transformation; the man was obviously still not well.

"Hello Jareth" he said when he got close enough

"Headmaster Dumbledore," came the strained reply.

They strolled together to a small café and Dumbledore was amused when he found that Jareth had no real concept of money and tried to overpay by a very large amount, he must after all be the richest man in the world. Yet from what he let slip appeared to be in absolutely no need of any of it, obviously one of life's little ironies!

The two men found that they actually rather enjoyed each other's company and were loathe to give it up. They were both very different to the sorts of people they generally met. Jareth enjoyed the challenge of avoiding or side stepping Dumbledore's innocent little enquiries and Dumbledore found Jareth's outlook on life to be refreshingly different, a man for once uncoloured by the wizarding school system. Dumbledore was fascinated with the bits of goblin society that Jareth did let slip. He rather thought Jareth was a bit blind when it came to the goblins and he was very interested in the casual way he disregarded behaviour that Dumbledore had never even seen them exhibit at all. Truly the goblins had hid their society well. Jareth was equally interested in wizard society and was surprisingly ignorant about nearly all of it.

He shrugged when questioned about it "My business does not often bring me aboveground," he finally answered.

"You live under the ground?" Dumbledore asked in surprise.

Jareth blinked in surprise at his ignorance, but refused to clarify further.

Dumbledore ended the afternoon by buying Jareth a book, one often bought by muggleborns as they entered the wizarding world for the first time. A gift he declared, freely given. Jareth flicked through it as they meandered back to the bank. He found a short section on goblins and laughed at its inaccuracies.

"It only mentions the one breed of goblin?" he enquired. Dumbledore was fascinated to learn that there were many different breeds, all different. Jareth laughed when he read the next page detailing the fairies. "Damn things reproduce like rabbits and are a total pest, but I didn't even realise you had them aboveground. I'd thought they died out years ago here. Visitors from above always seem so amazed when they bite! I thought the knowledge of their true nature must have died out with them." he replied to Dumbledore's quizzical look.

"Muggles are kept unawares of course, there are strict policies on these things nowadays. Infestations in muggle areas are dealt with very quickly." Dumbledore answered

"That would explain it, I don't get many wizards visiting," nodded Jareth.

The Kings Guard had seen Jareth transform and fly off and tried hard not to worry. One could never hold Jareth for long, so they'd been ready when he made a break for it and had discreetly tracked him from a distance until he entered the Labyrinth. They were ready for trouble and they all knew that Jareth was in no condition to find any. He'd spotted them as soon as he'd landed back in Diagon alley, but had headed off with Dumbledore without putting a stop to it, so they assumed he was ready to live with their presence. It would be a long time until he stopped needing them. He'd taken money off them too, renewing the ancient bonds that tied them together and yet had been ignored for so long.

**End of section 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Sorry this chapter is so short; the next one will be longer. I've been on holiday and then i spent my time improving and adding stuff to the old chapters. Hope its ok!_**

**Section 4**

**Chapter 14**

Jareth sat sprawled on a chair as goblins bustled around him. Casually eating his apple. It seemed every time he paused for breath these days they were shoving food at him in an effort to build his weight back up. He hadn't been especially hungry though, not with all the nightmares. It was a vicious cycle really, they'd try and get him to eat and he would refuse and the more they tried the less hungry he got. This apple was all he'd had all day. They were still worried about him; he could tell by the food they prepared him to tempt back his appetite, but he was sick of people worrying about him. He'd eat when he was ready and so what if he had actually lost weight rather than gained it? He was fine. In the end he had remained at the British Gringott's branch, it almost felt like home these days. He'd made several more visits to the Labyrinth, but he felt he was needed here now that the goblins were officially at war with Voldemort.

His doctor Griphook was particularly worried about him. The King wasn't eating, was losing more weight than he was putting on and was dangerously close to being back in hospital. He needed to deal with what had happened. Every time he came back from the Labyrinth, he looked more like his old self, but it never lasted. The council had wanted him to leave Britain, go somewhere safer and stay there, but Jarath had refused, said he needed to see this through. Meanwhile, Voldemort was getting stronger and the alliance with the ministry was increasingly appearing as a mistake. They were demanding more and more money with less and less actual results. Headmaster Dumbledore had died too, murdered two weeks ago, and with him went the tenuous ties to the so-called Order of the Phoenix.

The war effort was going strong though. The goblin army was swelling with volunteers and they had started actively hunting down Deatheater's, the council had held off from mentioning this to the ministry though, it was getting increasingly difficult to tell the good wizards from the bad and the bad from the stupid! It was only Jareth's budding friendship with the late Dumbledore that stopped the council from just announcing war with all of Britain. Voldemort didn't stand a chance, even without Jareth being able to actively help in his usual way.

Jareth left that afternoon to speak with the ministry. He took 3 goblins with him, Gingley, Deltare and Griphook. He wanted concrete answers about what was being done by the ministry to hunt down Voldemort and he wanted the truth about Dumbledore's death. None of them came back. The ministry had decided to put Jareth in "protective custody". It was strongly suggested that the goblins, as magical creatures, were incapable of protecting such a powerful magical creature as Jareth from the dark lord, it was also suggested that the goblins had nothing to worry about. They were all on the same side after all! This time, Jareth was looked for by the entire goblin nation. The Underground borders were patrolled vigorously, yet strangely there was no attempt made on them at all. No sign of Jareth was found by any of them, they had only the word of a corrupt ministry that he was alive.

**Chapter 15**

A summer turned to autumn, new laws were passed and it became illegal for a magical creature to hold a position of authority over wizards. The goblins were asked to formally secede ultimate authority of Gringott's; they did so with heavy hearts. Very few wizards were brave enough to protest the new laws, to the goblin's disgust. The Order eventually contacted them in the hope of establishing an escape route for Muggleborns, into France. The goblins refused, though the decision split them and many goblins left for the Underground or parts unknown. Money was now being taken from all the 'mudblood' accounts, to help aid the "war effort" and the goblins had to work hard to disguise their own assets from the ministry.

Then the ministry fell entirely. Rumours suggested Jareth was now being held in Azkaban. Gringott's was still unable to act, though a war party was sent to determine the feasibility of a rescue. As long as Jareth remained alive, the goblins were effectively helpless and the dark lord seemed to know this. Vigilante goblins roamed Britain though, attacking and killing any wizards they came across, regardless of which side they were on. The attacked didn't have to always be wizards either.

Griphook was now being held prisoner at the Malfoy manor, originally he had been held at the ministry itself along with Deltare and Gingley. At first they had been treated well, like political prisoners and they had held out some hope for Jareth. But then Deltare was killed, tortured for information about both Jareth and Gringott's, particularly its defences. Griphook had no idea where Gingley had been taken and he feared Voldemort was using the king as a source of power again. He knew he could never return to Gringott's or the Underground, not without Jareth, so his future looked bleak.

Griphook did eventually escape, due to the appearance of Harry Potter and friends and he quickly made his way to Bill Weasley's, a safe haven till he came up with some sort of a plan. Bill it turned out had quit Gringott's entirely and been spending his time with the resistance. There weren't enough of them to pose much of a threat though, not with Voldemort having absorbed much of the magic of the goblin king and the Labyrinth. The Order had been desperately trying to convince the goblins to accept Jareth's death and fight, before it was too late. But otherwise they were being forced to fight a defensive war, most of the Order's time being spent helping those with the wrong bloodlines get out of the country entirely. It didn't help that many ordinary witches and wizards were simply waiting for Harry Potter, the chosen one, to defeat Voldemort single-handedly.


	5. Chapter 5

Gringott's goes to war! 

Sorry about the delay, I got a little stuck with the plot. I apologise for the poor writing skills too. Anyone wants to improve the grammar etc let me know.

Introduction 

He'd escaped unnoticed when the Deatheater's fell and the doors to Azkaban were opened at last. It wasn't the Deatheater's who had put him there though, so unnoticed in the screaming masses, he had flown away. Eventually, he'd turned back into the shape of a man, but his memories were gone, left behind in the forest. He'd stolen and worked his way forward, gaining a new name and a new identity, always on the move, always with an eye behind him for danger, for the hunters. Gradually he'd forgotten, had settled into his new life and stopped running.

He had friends now, some of them magical; none mentioned the war to him. They were familiar with the glint in his eye, a telling sign of a survivor of recent events. They assumed he was muggleborn and he didn't correct them, wouldn't even admit to the amnesia. Still there was something missing, they were good friends, especially Neville, but however much he tried he could never truly be one of them.

Section 10 

"Sorry I'm late, Gringott's decided to ruin my day," sighed Neville to his friend sliding into a vacant bar stool.

"Gringott's?" questioned Jack, the name sounded familiar to him.

"My employers," Neville sighed "I should have listened to my Nan 'Never work for Goblins', she said, and she was right. I'll never understand them. Sour hateful lot most of them and they hate wizards, you know? Except Bill of course, him they like."

"Goblins?" Jack smiled fondly, "What exactly is the problem?"

"There's a pay review tomorrow, they want me to report on myself and tell them how much money I should be getting. Bill said if I pitch too high, I'll get nothing for my greed and too low and they will assume I'm admitting incompetence!"

Jack laughed, a rare event, but for some reason he felt fond of Neville's unknown employers. "Let me help."

"You? Well why not, you can't do a worse job than I have so far" Neville nearly pulled his hair in frustration "You know the worst thing? My next assignment will depend almost entirely on what I say tomorrow.

The next day 

Neville was sweating, he'd faced down Voldemort, but standing in front of the rview board felt worse by far. The goblins had no love of wizards nowadays. They had full rights now, including the right to bear wands, all given by the ministry to stop an all out war after Voldemort's defeat. Every wizard knew that the ministry had kidnapped the Goblin King during the war, prior to its take over by Voldemort. After Voldemort's defeat, the goblins had been appeased as much as possible to avoid another war, the wizarding world simply could not afford another fight, were still burying the bodies from the last one.

The goblins however, didn't care. They had agreed to a truce with the wizards only until the king was found, one way or another. Though there were few left who held out any hope of his being alive. The labyrinth and its people were now simply waiting. There was no agreement over any future actions and no successor in sight. In truth there was none left who could remember how to go about choosing a king that the goblins, the rest of the population and the Labyrinth itself would agree to obey.

Goblins had 'interrogated' any prisoners with even a slight connection to the kidnap with the ministries permission, but they found nothing but false hope. Azkaban was the reward for any of those involved with the abduction, one of the conditions demanded by the goblins to avoid war and a public apology was given for the ministries behaviour. Tensions were still very strained however, with only the Gringott goblins agreed to the peace. Vigilante's warriors were still roaming Britain, attacking and killing anyone who they ran into. They didn't care who they captured; they were interrogated and then generally killed regardless. The aurors did their best to stop them, an impossible task against so many with so few aurors.

Neville was in truth very rare in even getting a post at Gringotts, he suspected Bill Weasley had pulled some strings for him; even so, few of the goblins would pass the time of day with him. It was a depressing way to work and if the goblins had not seemed so deep in mourning then perhaps he would have left already.

Jack had ended up writing almost all of his presentation and Neville was still not sure it would work. It seemed a strange way to go about it. Jack had shown such confidence though, for the first time they met he seemed certain about something. Though how his secretive friend could assert that the goblins had a sense of humour and that this was the way to win his pay rise was a mystery to him.

It took 3 hours before he was allowed to leave the meeting room, or rather 'interrogation room'. Jack had been right, every question they had asked him, and Jack had anticipated and forced Neville to learn the answer. How he had known that they would ask about where he bought his shoes and how much he paid for them, he would never know. His own presentation to the council had gone well too. One of his statements even had one or two of them smiling in spite of themselves. He would really owe Jack for this one; He'd played them like a fiddle without even being here.

"Mr Longbottom?" Gripfoot ran down the hall to catch up, one of the few goblins that would be seen talking to him.

"Yes?" Neville replied

"How did you do that?" Gripfoot asked curiously "I've never seen a human defend against the committee like that. I've seen goblins fall to pieces." He added admiringly.

Neville grinned, looked around then lowered his voice "I had help from a friend" he said mysteriously.

"Bill Weasley?" questioned Gripfoot

"He did help yes, but it was another friend that did most of the work. He was brilliant, though I took out an absolutely awful joke he thought I should end with. What the hell is an oubliette anyway?

Gripfoot blinked "What was the joke?"

It took nearly five minutes before Gripfoot could talk for laughing, as Neville looked on in wonder. Maybe he should have kept the joke. He'd never seen a goblin laugh like this before; since he'd started work here they had always been grim and hateful. Though Bill had told him it hadn't always been the case he hadn't believed him.

Neville walled into the manager's office and blinked bemused. He'd never been here before; he would definitely have noticed a picture of his friend.

"Why do you have a picture of Jack on your wall?" Neville asked

"What?" said Gimley. He followed Neville's gaze to the portrait of Jareth on the main wall.

"You knew him?" he asked with carefully. "Wait here."

Neville somehow ended up stood in front of most of the goblin council, nervously he shifted from foot to foot as they interrogated him. They suddenly seemed much friendlier and yet more intent than he had ever seen them.

"Why do you keep saying, 'knew him'?" he finally asked confused. "I saw him just last week."

The council stared back at him in confusion; until a timid goblin in the back asked carefully "He's alive?"

Neville was confused at the intent looks everyone was giving him "Well yes" he coughed and then admitted "He helped me with that presentation I did" To his utter bemusement the goblins started laughing, almost in hysteria.

"No wonder you did such a good job" chuckled Gimley. Within moments the chuckling broke off. Neville was interrogated; the council intent on examining every part of his relationship with Jack or rather Jareth. Then the goblins began arguing. Why was he hiding from them? In the end it didn't matter. They would find him and deal with everything else afterwards.

Saturday morning 

Jareth was lazing in bed when the bell rang. He ignored it. Then someone started hammering on the door, he tried to ignore that too. However he was forced to get up when he heard splintering.

"WHAT?" he roared. Standing on the doorstep in nothing but his underwear. He looked at the delegation in front of him, goblins his mind provided.

They looked at him in stunned silence.

"Sire?" one questioned, then they all fell to their knees. He watched them in bemusement. He could tell it was going to be one of those days.

Section 11 

They refused to leave. If he kicked them out of the house they just sat on the porch outside. It was embarrassing. More of them had arrived too. The neighbours started to talk, so he allowed them in the house again. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was cold and raining out there. No matter what he tried he couldn't convince the goblins that he wasn't this Jareth person. In the end he got rid of most of them over night, but a core group of 'bodyguards' remained with him.

They quickly reached an impasse, Jareth was not willing to believe and go with them to a goblin stronghold and they in turn refused to leave him. In the end, he just kind of stepped around them. He enjoyed the company really, he'd been alone for so long and something deep inside that he didn't want to look at, trusted them.

He lounged on the chair enjoying his coffee. They refused to let him do anything at all in the kitchen, a goblin chef had arrived, strangely enough he had quickly got used to this, even though it had been him alone for as far back as he could remember. He still occasionally remembered to point out that they had the wrong person, but things quickly got into a routine. They would leap out at him from doorways with some supposed memories of his and he would sneer at them.

They managed in the end nearly two weeks of deadlock, he almost got used to the constant stream of goblins that came to stare at him in adoration. The end came one morning when the electricity bill came. Stamped in red. Jareth sighed and got out the morning paper to look for a job. The next day the bills were paid in full and there was a sack of gold on the breakfast table. He poked it in amazement; he didn't think he had ever seen so much money in one place before. Surely they knew he wouldn't accept this? They didn't apparently and refused in turn to accept any suggestion that he would work for a living. The idea left several of them in tears.

Sheer boredom won it for them in the end. Jareth couldn't go out in public with goblins following him everywhere and was beginning to feel closed in. So he agreed to a tour around Gringott's. Neville had promised to go with him.

They offered him a room when he grew tired, as he often was these days. He wasn't sure why he accepted, but he felt at home here. The goblins held no terror for him. They led him to a magnificent room, truly fit for a king. He'd miss them when they realised their mistake and found the real Jareth. He knew they had grieved for this mysterious king, had almost gone to war over his death, so he wasn't sure what would happen when they finally believed that he was Jack and not some mysterious Jareth. Though the resemblance was uncanny, even he would admit.

In the end he slept very well in the strange room. Awaking to discover they had stolen his clothes while he slept. It concerned him that he hadn't noticed; he was normally an extremely light sleeper, when he slept at all. Looking out the window he saw Diagon alley bustling with morning traffic, many of the people headed towards Gringott's. Eventually he dressed in the clothing provided and headed out the door, in no particular hurry. Two goblin guards were stood outside the doors and he wondered if they were to keep people out, or him in.

Breakfast was even more lavish than what they forced down him at home. In spite of the fact that he kept telling them that all he could stomach was fruit in the mornings.

They seemed to be waiting for something, though he couldn't figure out what.

"Well thank you for the tour" he said awkwardly. "I should head off, I wanted to stop by Diagon ally for a few things while I was here."

"You're leaving Sire?" his head of security questioned in dismay "You don't remember still?"

They wanted to take him to the underground. Jareth really wasn't sure he wanted to go to another reality, or dimension or whatever. He wasn't sure they would let him come back.

Neville, however, was greatly enjoying his newfound fame. Since the goblins had found their king, or rather, since they had started tormenting Jack, it was like he was working in a different place. The goblins smiled and laughed and if anything seemed in awe of Neville, now he had been ousted as a friend of the goblin king. Getting to watch his hard-to-impress friend, get flustered by the hordes of goblins adoring him, was fun too. Though he was finding it hard to adjust to the fact that ultimately he was working for Jack, or rather Jareth, his contract stated that for the term of his contract with the goblins, he was in fact a subject of the goblin realm.


End file.
